


Who We Become

by enenrayokai



Category: Bones (TV), Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: BAMF Spencer Reid, Light Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, M/M, Past Military Spencer Reid, Spencer Reid-centric, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2020-06-27 22:11:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19798801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enenrayokai/pseuds/enenrayokai
Summary: Damien Carmen - head to a notorious crime syndicate Reid had infiltrated years ago. The reason Reid had needed to start fresh and find a family with the BAU. The reason everything seemed to be falling apart now.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Administrative stuff -  
> Plan to add tags as they apply - still finding the final path for the story.  
> No beta, so all mistake are mine and I will edit periodically - so, sorry in advanced
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy. Cheers! :)

It had been years ago- perhaps too many to count by this time. Memories fade- just as they always do.

Time stops for no one- time continues forward and all those who wish to stop will indeed be left behind. And just like those left in the past- memories too can be forgotten and abandoned.

He knew far too well that the past would likely stay there; for that was not the part that he feared the most.

He feared that the past would find him- because unlike others, he was praying the past would be just that. Something to be left behind and forgotten; as if in time it would cease to exist.

It was a boy’s dream. For a young man’s dream is one of grandeur and hope- a dream that is destined to not come true.

Spencer Reid was unlike others- he was different in many ways; and his past was no exception. It was treacherous and filled with horrors that showed the monster it had made.

Time creates the person, and Spencer Reid’s greatest fear was that time and experience had created a monster.

Redemption was no longer something Reid sought, he had learned long ago he was past saving.

Yet, he still stood staring down upon a body with the hope that catching one more unsub would somehow clear his conscience, would somehow exonerate him of his crimes.

A boy’s dream.

“What do you think?” Came Hotch’s clipped question. Cases with kids were always hard on everyone, but Hotch more so than all the others.

Perhaps it reminded him of what could be if things had ended differently on a day in his past, or maybe it was just one of those things that just makes the man himself.

But it gave little help to dwell on why cases with kids hit Hotch so immediately and swiftly. Like a well-placed blow that connected with unexpected accuracy.

Reid let his eyes linger upon the body and his mind seemed to memorize every detail, catalog every feature.

It was just one of those things. His mind was a fortress whose best kept treasures were that of captured moments from varying cases. 

It was the terrible acts of humanity that were forever imprinted into his mind and it haunted him; nearly as much as the impressions from his crimes haunted him.

Before he could reply Prentiss came from behind him and pulled Hotch aside. He gave little notice to their conversation, only to continue his observation of the young girl that lay at his feet.

In a swift movement, he bent down to get closer and something glimmered in the light. Reid’s eyes found the source of the reflection and he stumbled backward as if he had been physical pushed.

He managed to move backward in what somewhat resembled a backwards crab walk before he bumped unceremoniously into Hotch’s legs.

Upon contact he lifted his head in bewilderment before standing abruptly and mumbling a halfhearted apology.

His head was bent forward, eyes cast to the ground, his shoulder’s slumped in what Hotch could only guess was due to the scene before them and his embarrassment at his unusual behavior.

Before either Hotch or Prentiss could question the youngest agent, he dropped on all fours before the dead girl and removed something from her wrist.

The movement was certain, but cautious. His body tense with the audience he knew he had.

It was the simple things. The little instances in life where the shift of what was and what will be come into precise focus.

The moment right before everything was about to change that can be felt with uneasy intensity. Removing the bracelet had been Reid’s moment.

As his fingers felt the cold metal of the accessory solid in his grasp a sudden calm rendered his body still.

The world was silent. Reid stood, removed his federal badge, standard issue gun, and any other miscellaneous credentials linking him to the BAU and dropped them at his feet.

He stared down at the objects as if they were some foreign entity, before casting his gaze to meet Hotch, ignoring all the others.

By this time, Prentiss- like Hotch- was watching Reid with hooded eyes. Uncertainty covering their features.

A few feet away Morgan stood, waves of shock and concern radiating from him as his hand rested near his gun, ready for a threat that would never come. As some unknown force seemed to keep him from moving closer.

To his right, local officers observed with objective eyes. The words came out steady, authoritative and strong. It made them ring true despite all doubt.

“It’s been a pleasure working with you.” Reid’s lips curved into an unfamiliar smirk and he dipped his head in some kind of sentiment.

Not waiting for a reply, he turned abruptly and walked away; bracelet still in hand.

Everything was happening at once, all together in a simultaneous mess of commotion. Too much at once, but no other way for it to be.

As Reid’s form showed no intention of coming back, Morgan advanced forward. His strides reeking of unvoiced anger borne from concern.

A shout resounded into the area and it took all Reid’s will power not to turn around and explain.

“Agent Reid, get back here right now.” The order had belonged to Hotch, his voice a clipped bark. Daring Reid to disobey- and disobey he did.

After that, no protest seemed to bring Reid back and in his haste Morgan ran up to meet the younger man.

Stepping into his path as a physical barrier, when Morgan looked into the eyes of his friend he saw something unrecognizable.

But nothing could have prepared him for his words. Words for only Morgan, Hotch, and Prentiss to hear.

“Step out of my way- or I will give you a reason to really be angry with me.” The tone was indifferent and cold. A cool expression painting Reid’s features.

Morgan stepped back in astonishment his face showing the hurt he felt.

Prentiss came to stand at Morgan’s side as she inquired softly, “Spencer, we can work this out. Whatever this—” Her diplomacy fell onto deaf ears as Reid effectively cut her off.

“Enough.” The word resonated in the brief space between the four. His tone carrying an undercurrent of power.

Never had Hotch known Reid to be the kind of man who could lead others into battle.

But as he watched this confident man before him, whose tone demanded to be obeyed he had no doubt Reid could command the masses to fall at his feet.

Everything about the man that stood before them felt wrong and Hotch was sure the other’s felt it too.

Reid seemed to straighten his posture, and he raked a hand through his hair in a very uncharacteristic gesture before speaking again once he knew he had their undivided attention.

“I meant what I said moments ago- but let me be clear. I will leave, and you all will let me. Stand in my way, and you will regret it- for that I am certain.” The last sentence lingered in the air as silence reigned between the group.

With nothing else to say, Reid diligently stepped around his teammates and walked away.

It would only take a little over an hour for the rumors to begin. The officers that had been at the scene when Agent Reid left had managed to spread the word to the rest of the force.

Unconcerned about the local law enforcement, the BAU team was holed up in a single conference room in deep discussion.

JJ flat out refused to believe the story and Rossi hadn’t made a single word since hearing of what happened. Garcia just cried.

A case that had started in their home town had become so much more than that. It had become the pivotal step in a long and dangerous journey.

After a verbal recounting of the events from that morning and the firm objections from JJ, Garcia found video footage of the whole thing after hacking into a few street cameras.

Just as Hotch, Morgan, and Prentiss had been forced into belief of the change in Reid, the others seemed to match their unwanted submission.

Seeing Spencer and hearing the way the words fell from his mouth made the whole thing more real than any secondary recount could even hope for; for the change in Reid had been both immediate and visible.

Everything about Reid had become colder, more power, more confident. Every gesture ridged and guided. A strange deliberateness echoed in every minute movement.

His long limbs usually gave him a gate of awkward motion; but as they all watched the video again they watched as his lankly limbs seemed to make him leaner and more noteworthy.

The pull of his muscles gave a grace about the genius that had never been attributed to him before. Every movement seemed to be beautifully elongated by his long limbs.

His posture was taught, his tone calculating and strong. An air of authority oozed from his every gesture. His words becoming unannounced commands.

Everything was different, everything was wrong.

Everything was quickly falling into chaos.


	2. Chapter 2

It was all a continuous mess of commotion. As if the world had fallen into some strange array of uncertainty.

Hotch stood tall, his suit impeccable. The air around him reeked of the unease he was trying diligently to bury.

He was the team leader, he was the one in control. It would do him well to stay in control, because weakness is a vulnerability. He watched in apprehension as his team seemed to fall apart before his eyes

"We'll figure this out," It was a call to order, a command of morale before a long battle ahead.

The room seemed to fall into a dangerous silence - and time ticked slowly forward. Let all men be left behind in its wake.

Hotch's heart ached, his mind wheeling with the new developments. But above everything, he felt lost, hurt even.

If Spencer couldn't trust him, then what did that leave them with?

The room remained quiet, eyes downcast and unwavering. Hotch steeled himself for a few seconds more before he trudged forward.

"We need to keep level heads. We aren't to forget we have a case to solve - with or without Reid. We finish the case and then--"

His words had been halted as Morgan bellowed, "So what, we just forget about Reid?" Morgan stood, his frame hostile and edgy.

Morgan was fuming; and internally, so was Hotch.

But Hotch had to be the man in charge - Mr. Calm, Cool, and Collected. And that would be his burden to bear.

"We work the case, something with the victim spooked Reid. So, we work the case. Meanwhile we can try to find answers too." Rossi's voice was level and stern.

A calming voice in a room full of unease.

It held a sense of caution, namely directed toward Morgan, but it was the voice of a reasonable man. Words to be listened to.

Words that demanded an audience and some careful thought. Logic was what Rossi was calling to the forefront.

Everyone seemed deep in contemplation as the words fully seeped into the original silence of the room. Everything still, quiet.

"Rossi's right." Came a quiet agreement. It was the opinion of Prentiss. She was still reeling from the sudden change in Reid, but she knew this situation - whatever was really going on - was going to require some finesse.

This was not something that could get answers through force, it would require time and patience. It would require deliberate actions and well-planned executions.

"We need a plan," she further implored, standing as she gained momentum, "so let's do what we do best. Work the case."

A slight murmur echoed behind her words as a kind of ripple behind her leadership and the tension in the room fell away.

The cohesive unit had found its place again, crippled perhaps, but still functioning. Standing unsteady, but standing together none-the-less.

"What do we know?" It was the starting point. Information was the foundation, and questions led to information.

"He took something." The words were timid. By this time, Morgan had seated himself in a corner of the room. His back hunched over his knees, his arms resting across his thighs.

He drew attention toward himself with is words and all eyes seemed to question his mumbles words.

"What?"

"A bracelet I think. Reid- he um, when he was on his knees I think he took something off the victim."

After that Garcia fumbled with the projector and replayed the footage of the incident. Her hands shaking with unexposed grief and worry.

She ran the frames in a slower progression than before and brought the tape to a specific time stamp according to Morgan's direction.

As all the occupants of the room watched in astonishment, the reality of Morgan's words struck.

"Okay, so we know he took the girl's bracelet. Why?"

"And who is the victim to Reid?" 

Both questions were given to the floor, open for debate and discussion.

And unlike all other cases, this felt different. For every singe person in the room was not just looking for answers, but playing a dangerous game.

It would be the answers to these questions that would become the fate of their resident genius. The agent they were refusing to let go.

Seconds turned into minutes and the questions seemed to have fallen onto deaf ears or unwilling participants; and in some sense perhaps both claims were true.

No on wished to answer. Having that conversation made it real. It was real that Reid's credentials and gun were offhandedly on the table in front of them.

Daring all to question the reality of those objects. Daring the team to accept that Reid was on longer under the FBI's reign. Nor within their realm of protection.

It was real that Reid was not with them; and what's worse, they had no idea why and very little place to go for the truth.

The searches and initial case inquiries had left the team with little information. Leading this case to be one of the more draining and exhausting ones.

And the man holding the truth of his intention was the man they seemed to be suddenly without.

The conversation lingered on, and soon the day turned to evening. Night sending its darkness into the far expanse of the world.

The landscape darkened by shadow. A foreshadowing of darkness ahead.

They had made little progress. Or perhaps, they had even moved further backward. More thinking led to more questions, and more uncertainties.

It was then that the BAU realized how little they truly knew about their resident genius. They were blinded by the knowledge of Reid's mother.

They had looked no further into his life, staying happily at the threshold of belief that all there was to Reid was his mother and her illness.

It became clear that the entirety of the BAU team had little knowledge of how Reid had not only paid for his mother's institution but also all of his degrees.

Who was Spencer Reid, and what lurked in his past to cause him to leave? That was the question, that was what became the focal point of the case.

It wasn't until Garcia had nearly toppled her computer with excitement that the first inkling of hope had appeared.

"The victim, her name is Alice. But it's her father we really care about." Was her explanation. Her voice eager with excitement but rough from her previous crying.

Everything had mostly been done in hushed tones and somber voices until Garcia's voice had resonated within the room.

"What do you got baby girl?"

In her slimmer of hope, Garcia shimmied in her seat before speaking again. Her tone more level, a note of seriousness edging its way into every syllable.

"The girl's father, he owned the bracelet. That's what Reid took, it belonged to the father. You don't think the father did this? Do you? How could a father do such a thing - this is, its-"

"Garcia." Hotch's tone was strong but careful. A note of hesitance that showed his concern for the usually colorful technical analyst.

The room lapsed into silence, a thick foreboding pressure lingering about the room's occupants. It only took moments before the silence was broken again - the words from before taking stronger root.

"What is the bracelet for."

"Glad you asked mon capitan." Garcia said, a smirk visible but tentative.

"It links the father to an old task force. A fusion group that was composed for specialized inter-agency operations. Some seriously sketchy stuff - like old spy movie worthy."

"What did they work on Garcia?" Rossi implored. Tone calculated, his mind wheeling with possibilities.

"That's just it. Almost all of the files are blacked our or redacted. Like I said, spy worthy. I am lucky I was even able to attach their names together and to this particular group."

"This group have a name?" JJ asked. Curious more than anything else.

"Scythe." Was the reply

"Keep working on it. In the meantime, why don't we take a break. Nothing will get done if we're sleep deprived."

And just like that, the flickering hope had been easily extinguished. Leaving more questions in its wake.

Hope is a finicky thing. It can destroy as easily as it can create.

Hope is for a desperate soul, or a fierce warrior. Or perhaps, no one at all.


	3. Chapter 3

Reid knew it was time, he knew that everything was about to change. He had loved working for the BAU, but knew that it couldn't last.

Not just that, he had found a home. A place where people cared about him and a person who would cherish him.

He had found a home with the BAU and he had found love with Aaron Hotchner. He had found his happiness; but his time was up.

He had been a man running from a past bound to find him. He was not foolish enough to believe he would escape.

Not foolish enough to believe it wouldn't matter. That the family he had made could somehow still accept him - love him.

It was a boy's dream.

He had stayed too long, and risked too much. To think, that everything happening now was because he had been foolish enough to think he could settle down somewhere, anywhere.

Damien Carmen had found him, and it was time he became the man he once was - or maybe the soldier he had always been.

The soldier he had worked years to pretend not to be. The man he had wished in the darkness of his bed that he didn't need to be.

And yet, better to be a soldier, and only that, than to remember all the things he had once been. A lesser of two evils, and one burden at a time.

Reid stood, his back stiff. A feeling of being on edge that he had never forgotten, only gotten better at hiding. The mind set of a man at war.

Yet there he was, sitting in the confines of his home. The home he shared with Hotch, the home he shared with Jack. Desperately searching for the enemy in every dark corner.

And even more, in the deep recesses of his mind, secretly hoping he may find it. And glad that Jack was out of town on a road trip with Jessica. Even more grateful, that Hotch hadn't thought to come back here now.

It had taken hours for his home to become something other than his haven. It became a reminder of the life he had made, the life he had been pretending to be a part of.

That he desperately wanted to be a part of.

A reminder of the people he inevitably put in danger. And that's where the guilt seemed to take hold - firm and unrelenting. This is what he had brought to the Hotchner household. Pain and fear and heartache.

Reid stood staring into the full body mirror with dark eyes and a ghost of a man staring back at him.

The black combat boots were snug, his cargo pants somehow slimming. A black shirt tucked into his pants.

A gun on his right thigh, another on his hip. Black metal, military issued weapons. Serial numbers missing.

Reid ran a nervous hand through his gelled back hair, a hallow smile upon his lips. It was then that he let out a broken laugh. Brittle and empty.

It echoed around him, in the emptiness of the room and he knew. He would be anything he needed to be. And maybe he hadn't changed at all.

Still the broken soldier who had forgotten his promises for love. Still the broken man who left destruction in his wake.

The sun rose, lighting the once dark landscape. It was the breaking of the new dawn. A start to something.

The BAU team had worked long into the night, hoping to find the answers they so openly hoped to find.

They woke in uncomfortable positions directly linked to the aftermath of sleeping in an office space. Their body's nearly as sore as their hearts seemed to be.

The eerie silence of the room seemed endless even as light began to overtake the sky.

A new day, a new start. With the demons of the past lurking close enough to not be forgotten.

"She was eight. Alice I mean." Barely above a whisper, the words of JJ seemed to jolt everyone out of their sleep-like state.

"Her father, Michael Barraghan was a sniper. A good one too. Army before going into private contracting."

As Garcia's words sank in, Morgan could not help but ask, "So how does a man like Barraghan know someone like Reid?"

And that's the problem - perception is a bitch.

Who is Spencer Reid? How much of himself did the BAU miss?

Life is made of moments. Moments that change the course of one's history, that change the journey they follow.

As Garcia searched the endless abyss that the internet had become, a single line of information would become one of these moments.

Usually insignificant until needed. Until it isn't.

"Damien Carmen." Breath harsh, eyes dilated - Garcia's words had the effect of a drug. Intoxicating, innately bad, and the start to something unpredictable.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope people like this chapter! Should clear up some of Reid's past. More to come soon.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented - positive comments are always welcomed. They keep me motivated. Until next chapter! Cheers :)

It had been a lifetime ago.

He had first met Damien and lost himself. Lost himself in the crime syndicate that Damien had labeled 'The Ranks'.

He had been a soldier then, well trained and hardened to the world. Everything had been empty, he had been numbed to the world.

He had served his country, and had continued to do so even after he had left the confines of the military to join a specialized group for which he had been groomed.

The world had lost something; it had lost its hope. He had struggled his entire life, working to pay the bills and take care of his mother.

It had started small. Random consulting jobs here and there; and as time continued, the work with the military became more.

And as experience grew, so did his skill. His confidence. A genius mind beautifully tapped into to make an elegant exterior meant for destruction.

He had become engulfed into the world of military personnel and eventually into inter-agency groups bent on removing corruption and crime.

Then, reeling from the guilt of turning his mom in, he had completely submitted to the quasi military task force that called itself Scythe Company.

A group of people that if they did their job right, would fade into the night faceless and nameless. The people society forgot and can't recall enough to try and remember.

Reid had found his purpose with them. He had found a place to belong, a place to use his skills; but mostly, he had found a place that had people who saw him for everything he could offer.

It was through Scythe Company that he had met Damien. A man that still haunted his dreams.

For despite the horror it had been working with the man when Reid had gone undercover in the man's ranks - there was a part of him that knew he had enjoyed every minute with him.

He was a man that demanded obedience and in some respect deserved it. He was feared, but respected too.

There had been no time for thought, just action and orders. A clear line in the sand that made things easier, that blocked out all the grey of the world; and Reid had needed that.

Perhaps he still did.

Had needed a place to forget all the things he had sacrificed to pay for his mother's care and for his continued education.

Damien had blurred the lines between honor and duty. He had gone in for a purpose, a mission - and had left because he had lost sight of that.

And he had come to terms with that. He was the soldier, the ruthless killer if need be, and he knew the second he accepted his fate - Damien would no longer have something to hold over him.

He had done some questionable things for the military, but what he had done for Damien had been the worst.

Spencer Reid had been known within the military as a long-range marksmen - one of the best. It had been that skill that brought him into the ranks of Damien's men.

When it had been determined that Reid was the ideal fit for a high priority case, his record had been erased. Not just the pertinent aspects, but his entire military career removed within seconds.

A whole life practically erased in a blink of an eye.

Spencer Reid was past saving, and it was fine time he let the world know that he knew and accepted that.

So as Reid stood before Damien's men, daring them to challenge him, he felt powerful. He felt ready.

Spencer Reid knew exactly the kind of man he was, and it was time the world knew it too.

Reid stood, his stance one of a well-trained military man. He let his gaze find the soldier before him and a bark of laughter escaped his lips.

"You're unskilled and lack the discipline to be here." As the harsh words took flight, Reid managed a well-placed blow to the man's solar plexus.

Bend from the lack of breath, Reid was able to continue an assault that left the once proud soldier kneeling before his feet. This is what Reid had left - this power, this reckless kind of control.

"You can't do this." The man spat

"You betrayed him, left him for the FBI." As the words left the man's mouth his distaste for Reid was prominent. Nearly palpable.

"He'll make you pay for this." The young man said. Voice harsh from heavy breathing.

And in that moment Reid recognized the man as Lorenzo. A young boy that had once followed his commands as if the world would fall apart if he didn't, and suddenly the man's strong dislike for Reid made so much more sense. Betrayal can be powerful.

And so it seemed Lorenzo had grown up - become a high ranking official in Damien's ranks. Someone who normally would demand authority among Damien's organization.

In a tone barely louder than a whisper, Reid breathed out, "FBI agent or not, I will always be above you."

And with that, Reid stepped past the soldier, through the metal gates of what looked like the house of a rich billionaire.

Tall ivory gates surrounding the luxurious oak front doors of a wide expansive building. And Reid couldn't help but acknowledge how surreal it felt.

He remembered the first time he had entered those fine crafted doors. Remembered how scared he had been.

After he had earned Damien's trust he had been invited behind the main doors of the home, a privilege few had been honored with. 

Only after a few months undercover, Reid had done something no other agent had been able to do- he had fully gained the trust of Damien.

He had become one of the few soldiers among the ranks to be welcomed into the man's home. Embraced and even loved.

And among all else, trusted.

He had been invited to eat dinner with the man every night among the intimate setting of the dining room, further surrounded by the man's most trusted council.

The first night he slept in the man's home, Damien had visited Reid before bed. And the agent had been certain he had been caught. Certain it would be his last day.

But then Damien had asked to discuss some business and run some ideas through Reid about The Rank's 'little problems' and it had become a ritual after that. Every night before bed, Damien would go to Reid in hope to solve various discrepancies among the people so Damien could 'deal' with them.

And despite all this time, no matter how afraid he had felt, there was still a sense of calm familiarity that being back here created.

This was home - or at least, it had been. Could be again.

Upon entry, Reid had been immediately greeted by a guard. Posture reeking of military experience, suit impeccable.

But there was more to this man than his sleek appearance. More to him than his wide stance, firm jawline, and seemingly cold eyes.

"Barraghan". The lone word stood in stark contrast to the initial tension and silence. Eyes locked together and postures ridged - the two men waited.

No other words exchanged until the man who Reid had called Barraghan replied with a simple, "Spencer". A barely noticeable dip of his head.

After that, everything seemed to fall into place. Like a machine that had finally been allowed to exist again. It seemed as if no time had passed at all. Two old friends, two old partners in crime falling back into step after years apart.

Then came the pain. The feeling of anguish was instantaneous.

"She's dead, isn't she?"

"Yes."

That would be the last time the two men would speak of Alice Barraghan; because they both had known that her death would be the only reason for Reid to be back with Damien.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all!  
> Sorry for the delay in posting a new chapter - hope y'all enjoy it! I was too excited to post another chapter - so mistakes are probably prominent (sorry in advanced!)  
> As always - positive comments are greatly appreciated :)

It was inevitable. To have two worlds, meant they would find each other eventually. It would be no different for Spencer Reid.

After days of digging, the BAU would have enough information and possible cause, to raid the house of Damien Carmen. The place Reid had been staying at since his departure from the life he had created.

For Reid, life had found an old normal. Almost as if life had gone backward and left him in the future, standing in the past.

It was easy to be back with Damien. To take orders, to shoot to kill, to fall into bed with the man after a long day and wake up with him to start another.

Even easier when Damien had welcomed Spencer back with open arms and veiled threats to others regarding Reid's protection.

Reid didn't know what kind of man he was in order to be with a person like Damien, but he was tired of caring. Tired of trying - and mostly, tired of feeling sorry for himself.

Alice's death had been the beginning - the unveiled threat that Reid was not willing to risk. His family would not find the same fate as Barraghan's.

With that in mind, Reid was willing to be everything he had to be, so his family didn't have to.

And maybe somewhere - not so deep down - he had missed the kind of life Damien had offered him.

And that was what haunted him the most. In the darkness, alone, he wondered what kind of man he truly was.

Nearly a week after the body of Emily had been found, Hotch and Morgan would come face to face with the man Spencer Reid had once been, and was now again.

"FBI" Resonated in the air. Almost as if echoing slowly within the space. Robotic and demanding.

In greeting, a soft reply had been made. With ears straining to hear their meaning.

"I'd like to see the warrant to search this premise." Barraghan was smart, aware of the rules and regulations that law enforcement had to follow. And more than willing to use it to his advantage.

"Where the hell are you keeping Spencer Reid?" Morgan boomed, his voice reaching far corners of the facility.

In his haste, Morgan had stepped forward; stance threatening as he utilized his full stature to induce a sense of intimidation.

And only a few miles away, Garcia and the rest of the team would be standing watch - waiting for anything and everything.

Prepared to send more units in case of a serious threat to life - but otherwise disjointed from the possible threats the two men would initially face. Ultimately standing at the ready to act without the full scope of what they would be reacting to.

"Morgan." Came Hotch's controlled tone. He had matched his step with Morgan, placing a placating hand on his shoulder. Fingers firm.

In a voice only Morgan could hear he implored, "Be careful, we need this more than they do."

And it was true.

While they were not able to be granted a warrant, they were hoping their presence would be enough to warrant a visit from Reid. Being almost certain Reid had gone and stayed there.

A vague lead had told them this is where he could be found.

So, on a limb, they had set up their own operation concealed in the active authority the case of Alice Barraghan offered them.

It worked. Somewhat, at least.

"I thought you'd show up sooner or later. What can we do for the FBI?" The tone was calculating, cold and emotionless. A business man protecting his assets. All of the things Reid was not.

Yet everything that he seemed to be now.

He was fitted in military style attire and the way he moved in the clothing showed a familiarity to it. Upon his face had been a smirk, lazy yet dangerous. An animal prepared to strike.

Muscles taught with tension, body humming with anticipation.

"Reid, man." Morgan took a steadying breath, "We can, we can help you. If you let us." But the words fell on deaf ears as the person in question let out a hallow laugh.

"That's the problem - there's nothing to help me with." As soon as the words left his mouth Reid turned on his heels and left the two FBI agents standing in shock.

And with contained concern, Morgan had reached out to stop Reid. A movement Barraghan easily caught. Within seconds, Morgan was on the floor, arm twisted at an odd angle - face in anguish.

"Reid, Spencer - just let me in." Had been his strangled response.

Holding a double meaning beyond explanation.

In return Reid had brought his gaze downward and something akin to sadness crossed his features.

"I belong here --" with Damien. And in that moment, both Hotch and Morgan heard his conviction and the end of the statement Reid had not needed to mutter.

As the words lingered between the men, his eye's softened and his gaze met Hotch's. For a brief second, everything stopped, and everything was perfect and normal.

Then the moment ended, and Reid broke the gaze, eyes briefly lowered.

"Reid, this isn't you - the kind of man Damien is, you couldn't--"

"Couldn't what?" Reid barked. Steel in his tone.

"Couldn't work for him, 'with' him."

At this point, Reid had met Hotch's eyes - a betrayal locked and loaded.

"I love him." Came Reid's simple reply. 

With a brief shake of the head, hands unusually still, he continued, "And I would do anything for him - in fact, I have."

"I suggest you both leave now." Barraghan implored - face neutral. Impartial to the betrayal that had just taken place.

And in those flickering moments, Hotch had looked like something precious had been taken from him. Shoulders abnormally rounded. Frame a facade of a smaller man. Eyes locked on Reid.

"I don't believe you." With that, Hotch had pivoted on his right foot and fled. Morgan quick to fall into step behind him.

As the two had begun their journey back to headquarters, Morgan mumbled to no one in particular, "The hell just happened?"

"He's lying." Hotch whispered. More to reassure himself than to assuage Morgan. He had to be, or what they had been, the happiness they had would be tainted by the lies and the deceit.

Upon arrival back, the rest of the team had waited with baited breaths. Eager to know more, and scared to hear the truth.

The first to break the silence had been Garcia. Each syllable uniquely laced with worry.

"Did you see him? Boy genius I mean - well of course you know who I mean. You do, don't you? Well, what happened. Did it, is he -"

Garcia was abruptly cut off. A single glance and minute shake of the head from Hotch had her silenced.

"'It was bad baby girl." Morgan offered. Inflection deflated and mellow.

"H-how bad?" JJ managed to get out. Voice practically vibrating with emotion. Prentiss standing sentinel at her side.

"He actually said he liked being there, that he wants to be there."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowzah, it's been a hot second! Here's another chapter, a bit rushed but hopefully better than nothing! Positive/constructive feedback always welcome :0

An eerie silence engulfed the office space. Not a word was uttered after Morgan and Hotch had recounted their experience with Reid.

It wasn't until a familiar stranger entered the building that the reality of the situation seemed to fully find focus.

"Can we help you?" Rossi questioned.

As people's attention was brought to the newcomer, Morgan's temper found its boiling point.

"YOU" He bellowed.

JJ took a diplomatic step forward, her tone shaking but strong. "Morgan, what is going on? Who is this?"

Before a member of the BAU could answer, the stranger spoke. Words cautions, but humble. A haunted look in his eyes.

"I am Michael Barraghan, I met Agents Hotchner and Morgan earlier today." As a tension filled quiet seemed to take over the space, Barraghan continued.

"I - Well, I think we can help each other."

His stance and tone was far from what the two agents had been met with earlier. Before he had been controlled, dangerous.

But now, as he stood before them; he was a broken man. His head slightly bowed, features a mirror of traumas he had seen.

"Okay, why don't you explain."

As Prentiss' words flushed over the room, everyone stood with uneasy anticipation. Morgan practically lurking just outside the man's personal space. Features drawn in suspicion.

"It was years ago."

And as the man continued to speak, the BAU's hearts began to break. Aching for the boy they had never gotten the chance to know.

"My poor boy genius. We should have gotten to know him better. We should have known better." It was a plea, and everyone knew it.

"He was the best candidate for the job. Well trained, well liked, and even more; the perfect partner for Damien. So, it was only fit that Spencer would go undercover."

"And how do you fit in? I wasn't mistaken when I saw you working under Damien today as well."

The question had been on everyone's mind, Hotch being the first to put it into existence.

"After a few months, I got worried about how well the kid had adjusted to being Damien's right-hand man. Asked to be placed undercover as a resource - a lifeline."

"And how did that work out?" The sarcasm barely concealed. Morgan leaned forward, body tense with anger.

Hurt, but understanding, Barraghan fell unceremoniously into a nearby chair, as if he had taken a physical blow. Eyes downcast. And upon a second glance, everyone could see the gaunt features of the man before them.

Softer, but still urging an honest response, Hotch implored.

"What happened?"

Garcia listened with shaking hands, body unable to rest. Tears finding home in her eyes.

"He couldn't, not our Reid. He, He -" Sobs broke out, obscuring the rest of her words.

Garcia had finally reached her breaking point. The place of no return, where the reality of the situation was too real to try and bury.

Her innocent boy wonder had been manipulated as a child. Recruited and taken advantage of by the government.

He was smart and talented, and the government had taken that little boy and molded him into a weapon. Created a perfect soldier, an ideal undercover agent. All with the promise of taking care of his mother financial - something a young boy couldn't do alone.

"Don't worry baby girl, we'll figure this out." Morgan placated, hand grasping desperately upon Garcia's shaking shoulder.

"And if we don't" Came her hushed reply.

The crying had slowly subsided when JJ's voice entered the fray.

"So, what, he was trained as a kid to be a soldier? What for?"

"Before Damien, a lot of things. His mind allowed him to master a wide range of skills. Long distance marksmanship, tracking, close combat - you name it, Spencer could do it."

Rossi listened intently, eyes in sharp focus. Mind spinning, pieces falling slightly and slowly into place.

He steadied his gaze upon Barraghan and noticed the man's determination for something. In that moment, he had decided to trust the man, something about him reminding him of a man he had once been.

In inquiry, Rossi had taken a deep breath and uttered, "In any case, why are you here with us?"

"You're going to need an inside man to help Reid."

In immediate reply, JJ lifter her head abruptly.

"Why won't Reid come to us?" She implored, tone close to desperate.

"Because he's doing this for you. Something I was foolish not to do maybe."

Barraghan's tone softens at the end, barely above a whisper and the audience he knows he has strains to hear.

And then Prentiss gets it, "Alice".

And that's all it takes, everyone seems to watch as Barraghan's eyes move about the space looking for a ghost of something, someone.

And just as the name is placed into the air, Barraghan crumbles in upon himself. Body seemingly smaller than before.

Everyone watches the man change before their eyes - a ghost of a smile upon his lips.

"He's scared what happened to Alice, will happen to you all."

"It's because he cares." Hotch whispered. The room practically shivered from the words. Blame seeping into their consciousness.

Despite all the new information, Rossi found he still had a lingering question. Something he was sure the others would be curious about as well.

"What ended the operation?" What had ultimately allowed Reid to join their family, and what had him so certain he had to go back.

"Why was he removed from the operation, why did he change his life? Lie about everything, join the BAU. Why would he start fresh, what was the need?"

"After about a year undercover, the operation was cancelled, Damien Carmen deemed too dangerous. Reid was pulled. I actually was the one to do it - blew my cover in the process." At that, a hallow laugh escapes his lips.

"Why was Reid pulled?"

"I was scared he liked it there." Was the simple reply.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! So sorry for the late update, hoping this meets peoples anticipation! As always, comments are always appreciated - its the reason for this update! Cheers, happy reading, and happy new year!
> 
> Note:  
> \- I have changed the the name of the victim (Emily) to Alice to prevent confusion.  
> \- I have also caught a few inconsistencies. The father of Alice is Michael Barraghan (not Samuel). I apologize for any confusion!

Just like all the nights before, as Reid contemplated bed, Damien had entered the room. A smile dancing upon his lips.

And despite everything, Reid knew he was safe. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Damien had welcomed him back. And Reid knew it was genuine.

Damien's smile smug, knowing; and Reid hated it nearly as much as he hated that he felt at ease here.

There was never a set schedule for when Damien would slip into bed with Reid - he was a busy man after all. But on nights that Damien would visit in hope to discuss business Reid would be certain that he would be sleeping alone.

And despite everything, Reid would find himself alone in bed longing for the other man. Damien's love was strong and steady - steadfast and unrelenting.

Just as he did everything else, his admiration for Reid was otherworldly. Like Damien could see all that Reid had to offer the world and was willing to help Reid accomplish such task.

Despite being an FBI agent, despite Reid faking his death to escape the man, depsite the fact that Reid had been undercover - Damien had always chosen Reid.

And even to a genius - that fact was intoxicating. The need to belong nearly all encompassing.

But he had the BAU now, and yet here Reid was. At the whims of what had nearly destroyed him years before.

Reid was born to be great - and Damien had been one of few willing to harness it.

Upon his return, Reid had heard a lot of talk - and some caught his attention. Namely, the idea that the organization had a mole.

And without much prompting, Damien knew that Reid understood the problem.

That was the thing about them. Reid could know what Damien was thinking just by a smirk, a knowing look, or a nod.

And he loathed to admit that Damien could do the same with him. With Damien, things were easy.

"You know what I am asking of you Spencer?" Damien inquired, voice hushed. A knowing smile firmly placed.

The man's body listed forward, a hand placed firmly near Reid's frame. Dominating, but cautious. A strange dichotomy of control and power, but also restraint.

Daring Reid to break the distance of his own accord.

"This mole, whoever they are, they're good." Damien instigated.

"And I am better." Had been Reid's steady reply. A call to order, a promise that the problem would be handled.

And there was that knowing smirk again. The one that told Reid Damien knew this was how the conversation would go. And so had Reid.

Just like that, everything had fallen back into place. Damien had always praised Reid for his gift.

He was intelligent, but more importantly he always seemed to know what needed to be done. A man who could read people's intentions.

Without words, Reid understood Damien's demand and was prepared to act without direct oversight.

The way in which they understood each other was both eerie and unprecedented. It's what had drawn the two together.

"It's good to have you were you belong." Words barely above a whisper, air pushed to gently caress Reid's ear.

Damien's features softened.

As Reid took a steadying breath, the other man gave a gentle press of his lips to Reid's forehead. Delicate and docile.

"Some men are borne to be great." And he left - words echoing in Reid's mind refusing to let the man find any semblance of peace for his waring soul.

It would be the next day that Reid would go to work. Would stand firm on his promise. Perhaps sealing his fate forever.

Because it was the small problems, the minute inconsistencies that Reid loved to find. The diamond in a pile of rubble and coal - the hidden treasure among the wreckage.

It was what had also made him so good at his job with the BAU.

"Lorenzo, you're with me today." The words a clear order.

In turn, the man in question fell into step behind him. Despite the tension from days before; old habits had proven to die hard.

"Reid." Lorenzo replied. And the anger from before seemed to have melted away.

Expecting greater resistance, before Reid could question it, the man implored, "I am glad you're not dead".

That would be the last they spoke of Reid's betrayal to the Ranks. Because Reid was back now, and nothing else seemed to matter.

"I'd like to pay a visit to Johnny - you know him?"

Without hesitation, Lorenzo offered an answer. "High ranking, came in after you left. He's dangerous." The last part a warning.

"So am I." Lorenzo dipped his head in acknowledgement. He of all people should remember the wraith of Spencer Reid.

After joining the Ranks along side Spencer, the two had become somewhat of a dynamic duo. Brothers and protectors. A confidant in a world wrought with deceit.

"Find him, set it up." A command, and a familiar one. Immediately, Lorenzo had fallen back into their rhythm. A dangerous dance.

Without any more prompting, the kid walked off. Well aware of what needed to get done. Leaving Reid to sort out a few other affairs in the mean time.

Not two hours later, Reid would be found in a local restaurant. A family kind of diner, a small hole in the wall establishment that all local folk knew about and loved.

He slipped gracefully into a corner booth, eye line fitted to the access points with his back to a wall. It was easy, the way he found a perfect vantage point.

Simple in the way his mind immediate fell back into old habits.

As Reid settled into a place at the table, the man across from him jumped at the intrusion. The table had not been empty when Reid had seated himself.

"Johnny." Came Reid's open tone. "You're a hard man to get into contact with."

With a smile, Reid clapped his hand on the man's back. A greeting fit for friends. And yet they had never met before. Regardless the gesture had seemed kind, and Johnny unknowingly relaxed a bit.

How contrary, it was weird how easily Reid fell back into the charismatic man he had pretended not be. Now, touch was normal and needed and social interactions were a battle field he was sure to conquer.

The awkward man, the facade he had once been was shed away. Or was this he facade?

For if this new man is the truth, left in its wake is a dangerous kind of criminal. And yet, despite the exterior, the man below still held hopes of grandeur.

In reply, Johnny had shifted uncomfortably. Eyes flicking upward, then down again in a sign of submission. A sign of respect.

Good, thought Reid. The man had to know who he was in the organization.

Respect can be manipulated.

"Do you know why I am here, with you?" Reid shifted lazily, as if his time was being wasted here. A far cry from his initially jovial tone in greeting.

"No." Was the reply.

"Care to guess?"

"I do not speculate upon the affairs of those who out rank me. I am merely at their command, ask and I will do." Johnny's face dipped slightly, tone serious.

He was showing respect for the hierarchy of the Ranks. A symbol of order to the chaos of the world.

And while Reid had intended to make this a longer, smoother affair; with the people that entered the restaurant his plans had been forced to change.

It was fine regardless. Reid was nothing if not adaptable.

"I do not appreciate being played a fool. Tell me, which agency is it?" Tone calculating and forceful.

"FBI?" Reid urged, "Or maybe, CIA."

As the acronym of CIA hit the air, Reid knew.

"I--I don't know what you're talking about. Sir, I am not --I wouldn't--"

As a way to effectively cut the man off, Reid implored, "CIA it is."

"Unlucky for you, it seems the FBI is here for you rather than your own agency."

And looking up to meet the gaze of Aaron Hotchner, Reid smiled. A crooked kind of smirk that left the air stale.

And as he stood to leave, Lorenzo quick to follow, Reid stopped and looked over his shoulder.

"He's all yours."

What the FBI wanted with Johnny and what would occur now that Johnny was in the presence of the BAU was no longer of his concern.

With a heavy heart, but determination; Reid left behind his team and the resulting investigation that their meeting Johnny would create.

Unfazed by their startled looks and clear concern.

The soldier was back, and Reid couldn't help but wonder who he had fooled more. Others or himself.


	8. Chapter 8

We make decisions, and we do not regret.

Words to live by, or perhaps words to learn to understand.

Consequences are tricky things, and Reid was certain the consequences yet to come would be the worst yet. And still he had trudged forward, into the dark abyss with eyes wide open.

"Sir," came the crisp command.

In reply, Reid had merely nodded his head and continued walking. Allowing the other man to fall into step beside him.

This was simple, easy in a way that military life always allowed. While the Ranks was no standing military organization; its operation could rival that of any military base of operations.

A mental war raged, but the body was always finely tuned. It was natural without the need for thought. This quasi-military styled organization was well suited to Reid's tastes and abilities.

"Johnny was taken into custody. The FBI was given a tip to his location." There was concern in the soldier's voice. A lingering tone of uncertainty.

Without acknowledgement Reid questioned quickly, "Where is Lorenzo?"

The solder, confused at Reid's lack of concern, dropped into silence a bit too long for Reid's taste.

"I asked you a question." Reid stated firmly. Tone casual but lethal. And with a brief look toward the lower ranking soldier the man gave an eager reply.

"He had a meeting with the Rank's attorney. Elena's new and needed some guidance. Her first -"

Effectively cutting the man off, Reid spoke. Voice barely containing its edge of growing anxiety.

"Elena's still within the Ranks?" Tone serious.

"Yes." There was a cautious note to the man's voice before he continued, "She is to become the Ranks attorney. It's a great honor. I assumed you knew."

At the last sentence the boy bowed his head. A clear show of submission and respect.

And still Reid hardly noticed the man's discomfort.

The world tipped, and Reid found himself grasping for purchase. Elena was here. She was going to be the Rank's attorney of all things. Without thought, his heart seemed to shatter.

He remembered his time with her, she had been young back then; and he supposed so had he.

She was carefree, wanting to change the world and save people. She had been innocent and optimistic in ways only youth could provide. In turn, Reid had promised her the world.

He remembered the night he had promised her everything, the night he had promised himself that he would save her at all costs.

It had happened quickly, as most important things do. In a blurry kind of focus that seems impossible to decipher.

As if the world was looking in with unfocused eyes and missing glasses. Everything fuzzy and blending harmoniously together.

Docile, controlled Reid. A man few see out of control, because the man had always known how volatile anger could be.

Reid hadn't just gotten angry, he had lost control.

He had stepped in to Elena's room to play a game of cards as promised when he saw a figure standing above her. A dark shadow in an already dark room.

Night had fallen hours ago.

This had been a ritual of the two, late night card games. Elena had been smart. Well capable of challenging the young genius when he found himself in states of sleeplessness.

An ally in a world full of deceit and lies.

And without prompting, Reid had sprung into action. He had pulled the man from the young girl's form and had dragged him haphazardly into the hallway. 

A low growl escaping his lips, eyes dark and without mercy. A beast finally released.

His range had seemed endless then, he had been a man blinded by the thirst for not just justice, but blood. Something inside of him had clawed its way out.

Looking back, it had scared Reid. How a matter of seconds could render him a nameless, faceless monster.

It still did.

For in one brutal act he had bound himself to the Ranks. Damien had stepped out into the hallway and gently pulled Reid from the still form.

The carpet stained a dark red, Reid's body shaking with adrenaline.

"He - he touched her. I, I don't. I -"

"Who was he?" Damien's calm voice washed over Reid and his mind seemed to settle enough to make a coherent answer.

"I don't know."

"We don't care." Was the simple reply.

And that would be the last they spoke about the man Reid had killed, and the body they had both hid.

Reid had never killed for the man, but he had still killed.

In that moment, they had become linked to a crime. Accomplices. In the eyes of the BAU, Reid had become the enemy.

And yet, despite the dark deed he had still found himself hoping to find a home with the BAU; a family. A reason to be anything other than what he had become so many years ago.

Yet there he was. Exactly where he had been so long ago. Open doors without locks, and still held prisoner. 

Because he may have come to this place to protect the BAU; but he was staying because of Elena.

And maybe because some part of him, needed this.

Innocent, optimistic Elena.

His feet had led him carelessly to the room in the house that had always belonged to Elena. And without consciousness he found himself knocking.

Hand reaching up briskly to caress the outer wood of the door. Knuckles barely making contact.

Both hoping she would be there and certain she would not.

As the silence stretched on, and his footfalls failed to continue its echo, Reid stepped slowly inside the room. Dark, wooden doors sliding open seamlessly; as if to greet him.

The first thing he noticed was the smell. Lilac and lavender. Proof that this room was being occupied.

The bed was neatly composed, the curtains drawn open to let in the vast rays of light. He found himself enamored by the subtle touches of Elena's presence.

A notebook laying here, a letter partially opened over there.

As if in a daze, Reid wandered about the room. Taking in each and every delicately placed trinket. Tears somehow finding his eyes.

"Who are you?" Came a demanding voice. Tone calculating and cold.

In an instant, Reid had straightened from his hunched position. Carefully placing the photograph back in its place in the corner of the glass table.

He took a breath to steel himself and turned slowly to meet the intruders gaze; or perhaps he was the intruder here.

Words barely above a whisper, Reid strained to hear as Elena breathed out, "Spencer." The name sounding ghostly and hallow.

Laced with hope and confusion.

That's all it had taken. The noble cause that had led Reid back to Damien's doorstep was eroding.

Where he had once thought he could return to the BAU; another undercover operation. He now realized it was all for nothing.

He was a genius after all. He had planned it all perfectly. Michael as his co-conspirator.

He would infiltrate the Ranks, finally do what he had intended to do so many years ago. Do whatever needed to be done to end this chapter of his life.

Because the life he had with Hotch and Jack, with the BAU was everything he had ever needed. He had been determined to find his way back to them.

And now he realized he might not be able to.

Standing in this room with Elena, his word faltered and failed to find equilibrium again.

All of that work, all the progress to make this a failsafe, undercover operation with approval and contingencies was meaningless now.

This was no longer a cause deemed necessary because of a justified intent and outcome. Perhaps it never had been.

But with a genuine smile to Elena, Reid dipped his head in a challenge. Everything would be fine.

He was nothing if not adaptable.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! Here's an update, hope it meets expectations!
> 
> Also, thinking about posting more chapters within the next few days instead of spacing them out - thoughts?!
> 
> Happy reading! Cheers! :)

Damien was smug. He knew just exactly how this would play out.

"And what about our little problem?"

After Johnny had been arrested by the FBI, a secondary organization had interpreted weakness. An opportunity.

The problem Damien had been referring to was the high likelihood that the Ranks would be subject to a hostile takeover.

Nicolai had been a new name. A man hoping to distinguish himself. After the death of his father, Nicolai had assumed command of the Salvatore family. It was well known that their organization was in deep turmoil.

Nicolai lacked the experience and patience it took to run an organization of its size. Lacked the charisma and the understanding that his father had held in spades.

In his haste to rise quickly and gain a reputation, Nicolai had been taking bold actions. Actions that should have required finesse, but instead wielded brute force.

Both Reid and Damien knew that rash decisions could have disastrous consequences.

"He's planning something." The statement had been said in a relaxed, conversational way.

Reid merely nodded his head in acknowledgement. A silence lingered.

"He'll undermine your authority." Damien continued. A contemplative note to his words.

"I am sure I can persuade him." Damien let out a long laugh. A deep, guttural sound, hearty and genuine.

"I know you can, I am merely concerned about how long it may take. Nicolai is a man of action, not a man of thought. We cannot allow indecisive actions on our part."

Then, with a shrug of his shoulders Damien stated, "And with your return, uncertainly in the Ranks simmers." Then the man dismissed the statement, a clear sign that Reid's return and the consequences held little concern to Damien.

"It infers weakness." The phrase vague. Both understanding that it could be attributed to either previous circumstance. 

"And what will you do?" The question had been a formality. The leader was already nearly certain of the path that would need to be taken.

"A deal. Make him believe I would sell out the ranks to him."

"Tricky business." Was the only reply.

The room fell into a comfortable silence as both men weighed the options.

In an act of finality, Damien produced a sheet of paper that had been locked in his desk. With little flourish, he presented the single sheet to Reid.

"How will you do it? Convince him of your deceit to me?" 

Reid had looked over the paper, a gleam in his eyes.

"Very carefully." Was his cocky reply. 

Reid had never known a single sheet of paper to hold such weight. While he had slowly been leading Damien to this kind of moment, it was still shocking to see the devotion and trust the man was affording to him.

The weight of this moment dug deeply into Reid's being. 

He would need to meet with Nicolai. A meeting that would require some kind of intervention by Damien. A show of faith that Reid held enough power over Damien that his alliance would be worthy of Nicolai's rash plans to build himself a grand stature among the business.

Upon that paper had been beautifully jagged letters in a messy but crisp script. A signature lined along the bottom of the page.

The signature of Damien Carmen.

A concrete link between Damien and illegal activity. Something that had never occurred before, Damien was nothing if not careful. That's what made him good.

Out of trust Damien was willing to pay this price. He had chosen Reid, without hesitation or regret.

That Reid wielded that kind of power over Damien's meticulous nature to protect himself from the law was a clear show of the devotion afforded.

Loyalty is a hard thing to come by with Damien, and yet Reid had practically marched in unannounced and received it.

Reid would deal with the little problem, and Damien would rest well knowing it was handled.

The conversation had stilled to an end. A comfortable understanding between the two. Damien was smug.

Confident in Reid enough that he allowed himself the satisfaction that he had won Reid's loyalty. Reid was finally were he belonged.

Damien knew it and so did Reid.

And that's what made the following moments all the more disorienting. 

As Reid walked away, he met partway down the hall with a man in a suit. And in a single movement Reid had handed the signed, incriminating document into the man's waiting hands. 

A decision had been made. "Get this to Seeley Booth." And the interaction had ended, without Damien aware of the knew keeper of his actions. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowzah, it's been hectic! Hope people like this chapter! Expect more soon :)
> 
> Also, please take a second look at Chapter 9 - I added a little more to the end that I realized I had accidentally left out! My bad!!

Garcia had clearly been crying.

Morgan had been pacing; anger and confusion visible.

Rossi seemed in shock.

Prentiss had stopped speaking, too lost in thought.

JJ had taken noticeable steps back, as if distance would equate to disappearance.

Hotch stood still, as if turned to stone. Stance stoic, arms crossed possessively over his midsection. A protective stance he had inadvertently picked up from his continued time spent with Reid.

"When did you get this Garcia?" The statement a command. Steady and solid.

It provided a reason for the technical analyst to focus on the present.

"It was left in my office, with a note from Reid." The name left the occupants of the room in near silence. All contemplating the implications that this may create.

"He recorded everything." Prentiss' words were haunted.

Echoing in the mindset of nearly every other figure in the small space.

"But why?" JJ questioned. A slight quiver in her usually controlled voice. Clear evidence of how this was all affecting her.

"Why would he do this? And what he says? He can't, he can't mean it. Or, or maybe this is a joke. He wouldn't, would he?"

As the words slowly came to a stop, Garcia's voice softened. The uncertainty changing her usually cheerful affect.

"Why don't you play the most recent tape again baby girl? The one you're talking about, and maybe we can try to get something helpful.

"We're missing something." The voice of Rossi overtakes Morgan. The tone a simple statement, as if the man is speaking aloud to himself.

With teary eyes Garcia had looked up to meet Morgan's gaze, and a soft nod is given.

Determination clear in her features.

It had seemed that the tapes included every moment since the death of Alice. And the recordings were on old wire-based tapes.

It was astonishing to believe that Reid had not only risked wearing a wire, but had done so successfully; if the tapes presence was anything to go by.

That of itself, was telling. Reid either knew he could get away with it or risked it regardless.

Both equally concerning possibilities that each team member found daunting to think about for any longer than necessary.

As the room fell into a silence in many parts, Garcia played the most recent tape. Audio cackled to life, and it seemed the entire team was thrown into a warped reality.

A strange voice echoed in a seemingly hollow place. Perhaps a cellar or shipping container. It had offered an airy quality to the individual's affect.

Even still, it had been clear that the speaker was Michael Barraghan. The words simple.

"I knew".

"And you never told me." Came a voice that every occupant of the technical analyst's office could place immediately.

Reid.

More powerful, intimidating; yet still their Spencer Reid.

"How could I?" The reply had been clipped. The last few words barely audible, yet the reply was harsh and clear.

Reid had let out a long laugh. A hackling sound that expanded in the enclosed space. It had seemed endless as it rang through the audiotape.

The slight static in the background making the brief silence on the tape eerie.

"I had a plan you know." Reid's voice was bordering between somber and amused, as if he had been unable to fully make pi his mind which one he was.

The tape let out a shrill crackle as the microphone was shifted and part of the conversation had been muffled, but the following words had been crystal clear.

And then the seiorus notes to the voice that had come next chilled Hotch to the bone. Leaving his heart aching for the man he knew he loved.

"It was hurt, but it would be worth it. Life with Damien or life with the BAU. With Hotch and Jack. It hadn't been a choice."

"And then you had to come along." The audio screamed to life as Reid's hummed chuckle entered the microphone.

And then a third voice is heard. A strong, deep baritone. Tone harsh and taunting, a threat lingering behind his syllables.

"You're an FBI agent. What are you going to do, arrest him?" Without behavioral cues, Prentiss is certain the man is leering. Tone vulgar, hatred barely under the surface.

Perhaps a feeling of betrayal somewhere in there too.

Reid's response had been calm. Soft yet forceful.

"No."

"Ha, kill him then? I'd like to see you try?"

Again, Reid's voice had reverberated. Barely above a whisper, begging all who are near to strain to hear.

"There are far worse things than death."

Then, he had mumbled under his breath, "I had a plan." Words reiterated from before, barely audible, but clearly spoken loud enough for Barraghan to hear.

Then more clearly, he had exclaimed.

"Lucky me, I learned how to deviate."

Not a second before the words had been spoken, the microphone lets out a shrill scream and the audio cuts.

And just like the tape, silence descends. Engulfing all who stand in its wake. A steady, linger presence like the fear of monsters in the dark that children hold.

And in a choked exclamation JJ questions, "What did we just listen to?"

Her confusion felt by everyone.

"He's still protecting us." Rossi had murmured in response. The meaning only adding to the oppressive atmosphere.

"How?" Garcia had exhaled. Eyes streaming with tears now. A sudden and brief lapse into hysteria.

"He made it legitimate. The recordings, all the paperwork here with them. A detailed record, one we cannot be traced to.

And that had hit too close to home.

Somehow, Spencer Reid was still protecting them. Despite everything, he was risking his well-being, his world so that they could retain theirs.

And Hotch hated it. Hated that he understood, hated that he would do the same thing, hated that it made him love the man even more.

"Now what?" Voice booming. Contrasting with the room. Morgan stood abruptly, his presence demanding an audience.

As all eyes tuned to Hotch, the man had bowed his head. A slight dip, but more telling than anything else he could have done.

"I wish I knew."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends!  
> Thinking about putting up the last few chapters up the next few days.   
> Hoping the whole story comes together in a way y'all can enjoy!  
> Comments are greatly appreciated :)

The cars were telling. A clear sign to the public or anyone for that matter that something was about to go down.

Sirens and lights had been off, but the thick, black lettering on the side of most vehicles created a sense of immense seriousness.

And then there were the SUVs.

Dark, tinted windows. Suitable to fit a unit, a family.

And as the early dawn had only started to break, a familiar figure came into view.

"Miss me?" Had been the confident call. The man's strides graceful. A prophet or a ghost.

Tone casual, a slight rise in octave that became the only sign of distress. An audible cue every profiler filed away for another time.

"Spence." The word breathy. Ending in a deep kind of exhalation that foretold of greater meaning behind the single syllable.

And in a gesture uncommon to the man, he opened his arms in welcoming. Without further instigation, JJ had flung herself forward into his embrace.

Reid's chin dipped to meet her shoulder and behind her he made eye contact with Hotch. The stoic man's face an unusually open display of warmth.

As they parted the rest of the team gathered.

A strange kind of coming home. A return of a loved one but tainted with the uncertainty that a lack of information created.

"What's going on here?" Rossi voiced. Speech crisp and a bit sharp. Eyes looking for something he knew he could find.

In immediate response the team watched as they saw the old Reid before them. In slight embarrassment and submission, the man lowered his gaze.

"I, well -"

Reid's stammering was cut off by an approaching figure.

A steady tone reached everyone, volume increasing as the speaker steadily got closer.

A gravely undertone that made the man seem equally confused and amused.

"I'd love to know the answer to that as well. Got a call I was in charge of this raid, funny how I had only heard about this mere hours ago."

A brief pause before the same man questioned almost light heartedly, "This the explanation to the paper I received earlier today that incriminated on of the most notorious crime bosses?"

"Booth." Reid exclaimed. Clear excitement in the man's voice.

In response the man merely glared at the young man. A clear demand for an answer.

"It needed to be a third party in charge." Stated as if the idea was obvious. 

"What does exactly?" Prentiss questioned.

"The arrest of Damien Carmen."

As quickly as the silence had overcome the group, a raged mismatch of words and sentences mingled in the air. Unintellectual and slightly too loud for reason.

With a single word Hotch lowered the volume to nearly zero and all eyes fell to Reid.

A mixture of confusion, anger, and relief hiding in the eyes of his observers.

There was something there, a strange kind of emptiness that each profiler found in his own eyes. For people who knew him so well, it was evident.

This was breaking him. Slowly and in ways they could never hope to imagine.

While he stood tall and elegant, frame strong and bold, they all saw the man below.

A man being pulled in separate directions. A soul separating in two. A heart in the moment of breaking. 

And it scared them.

Despite Reid choosing them, it was clear that it had cost him dearly. That thought alone was sobering.

"I assume you're read in on the details?" Reid offered a nod of his head to Booth and was given a nod in reply.

"Good". He said almost offhandedly. Words shallow and quiet.

"Then that's all there is to it. The BAU is acting as a supplementary team."

The team had stood still, waiting for more information only for none to come. In the tense silence of an unexpected reunion, Hotch spoke.

In a tone demanding explanation but soft enough to prevent a sense of oppression, he questioned, "Spencer?"

The single word, the name. A question far beyond what anyone else could have mustered and still meant. And as everyone looked toward the usually aloof man, it was clear how hard this all had hit him.

It was only in this brief interlude that everyone saw the strain.

The almost minute, but present wrinkle to the man's suit. The crease at his brow that was usually smoothed away. The clear dip in his shoulders.

In almost immediate response, Reid had taken a step toward the man only to catch himself a second later. A moment of hesitation.

It has lasted only a moment, a split second that could be missed by the blink of an eye.

Reid’s grace had fallen away in a strange and beautiful display of the man he was. A glimpse into the depths of despair, aching, devotion, and love.

A contrary kind of feeling.

And then it was gone, and Reid was back.

“We arrest the bad guys, it’s what we do.” Off handed, words far less heavy than the single word that had proceeded it, but still weighty in its own regard.

And then everything fell into a haphazard kind of commotion. A unique dance between order and chaos.

Boots found quick purchase on the solid ground and the thrum of their beat echoed in Reid’s heart. This was it, everything he had wanted and feared.

As Reid trailed through the grand wood doors of a place he had called home he stilled. 

“FBI, hands up.”

“Get down”

“FBI –”

The shouts reverberated, making their resonance stronger somehow. As the shouts and the bullets broke the silence Reid’s mind followed suit.

His mind was screaming, yelling at him to stop this. To end this. These were people he had pledged to protect. People he had helped make alongside Damien.

A home he had created for others and himself, a home he was now destroying. What kind of man did that make him then?

Life is made of moments, times that irrevocably change us forever.

This was one of those moments.

Among the chaos and the struggling order, Reid stood. The change had been brief, almost unrecognizable to most.

We make decisions, and we do not regret; because some are born to be great. 

This would be his burden to bare.

With that, Reid raised his gun and followed. Arresting people he knew, people who had spoken kinds words to him, and people who had feared him.

He had come across a woman who worked in the kitchen. Bordering the line of being labeled as elderly. She was kind, motherly. A soothing balm to Reid’s aching sole in times past.

“Shhhh, it’s okay Nattie. This will soon be over.” Placating words. Meaningless words.

The lady nodded her head in understanding and with a final look at Reid ducked into a nearby hallway leading back to the kitchen.

He watched her retreating form and every part of this life he had made with Damien seemed to shatter. A decision had been made.

It took an hour and a half to find all the important players and arrest them. Everyone in custody awaiting the next steps.

Everything had begun to wind down and in the pursuing reduction of adrenaline Reid found himself exhausted. Body and soul.

At the brink of complete fatigue, Hotch had approached Reid from behind. A gentle hand placed on his shoulder. An anchor.

That was all that it took. Reid snapped awake and followed Hotch back to the SUVs that would return the BAU to the station where interrogations would ensue.

He chose Hotch and Jack. He chose the BAU.

And it was slowly killing him inside. Tearing apart two very real parts of who made Spencer Reid the man he had been molded to become.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhh boy. 
> 
> Split second decision, I am posting the last two chapters!   
> I hope this journey has been worth the ride, you all have inspired me to keep writing and finish the story.
> 
> Thank you to those who read, commented, or added a kudos. This story is for you guys. 
> 
> I may come back and make some alterations (small and mainly grammar) later, but my excitement is winning. So the rest of the story is up and ready for your enjoyment!

The police station was a bustling nest of activity, swarmed by the high activity created with the presence of the FBI.

Everyone was in motion, there was something to be done by nearly everyone. Even still, Reid had stood in an observation room, eyes never leaving those of Damien.

It had been eerie. How Damien’s glance seemed to perfectly meet Reid’s despite the one-way mirror between them.

While the BAU was allowed to be present and participate in the raid, the resulting arrests and case building would lie solely on a third party.

A way to prevent tainting the evidence. As a courtesy, the BAU had been allowed the chance to observe the interrogations. A way to be involved with the conclusion of what Booth was certain had been a wild ride.

To Reid’s right Hotch stood with a steading presence. Close enough that his breath ghosted at Reid’s nape. A calming, intimate gesture.

Protective but reserved.

Reid had needed that reassurance. Needed to know Hotch was there when he needed him, but not a moment before.

It was Hotch’s ability to read him that had drawn the genius to the stoic man. Hotch had always been able to know when to help and when to give space. A quality that Reid greatly needed.

Morgan stood to Reid’s left. A solid and strong stance. Back braced and shoulders squared. A perfect sentinel.

Further from the mirror stood Prentiss and Rossi. Their presence felt but held back. Allowing a sense of protection without the need for proximity.

Rossi had held a glint to his eyes, an all-knowing kind of essence. He had dipped his head, allowing his ears to be his guiding sense. Well-tuned to Reid’s steady breath. Almost too steady.

JJ and Garcia were elsewhere, paperwork that needed to be done. Miscellaneous preparations for their departure a pressing matter.

And underneath that, the two couldn’t stand the thought of seeing Reid so near to Damien. Even with the thick glass as a barrier.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Booth questioned. His tone stern.

“Because Reid managed to take down the Ranks I would wager to guess.” There had been no malice, no indifference or anger.

Taunting words. Words from a man who had settled on the inevitable. Resigned to their fate.

“And does that anger you?” The question lingered as Damien seemed to think.

Reid’s body tensed, his face contorted in barely contained stress. Back ridged, eyes unwavering.

“Why should I be? I knew he was good, that’s why I trusted him. In my greed I allowed my hope to blind me, too certain that he would chose me. Needing him to choose me.”

The man paused, drawing Booth forward.

“He’s one of the greats. I am only sad to see it wasted with you all.”

There was a finality to the tone. An ending of sorts. Then another voice spoke, a man only known for his role and position.

A man from internal affairs.

“I find it hard to believe you are not somewhat angry by his betrayal.” The statement had been open. A fishing line cast in hope to gain insight into Reid’s behavior.

Damien sneered. A dark and ugly smile tugging at his mouth. Eyes with steel in them.

“If you are hoping I will reduce Reid to such interagency scrutiny, you are mistaken.”

The internal affair agent hardly responded. Allowing patience to be his interrogation technique.

And then Damien’s expression had been replaced with something akin to ragged concern. Eyes boring straight into Reid.

“And you chose them.” Words spoken with venom. A hatred angled toward the FBI as a whole. A deep concern pushing its way to Reid.

The silence that had ensued was all encompassing. Like a black hole had erupted and swallowed every sound.

And with a final show of genuine anger on Reid’s behalf Damien let out four words that would forever imprint with the genius.

“They don’t deserve you.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I can't thank you all enough for sticking with me!  
> Happy reading!  
> Comments are greatly appreciated, they make me better :)  
> And if y'all have any suggestions for future stories let me know.  
> Between a busy schedule, school, and basically life; I like to try and write still!
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> Here's to a silence in three parts - Terra1298

It had been a silence. A silence in three parts.

The first was borne from an absence. The lack of all the sounds that should be found here, that usually filled the space with a sense of home.

And the second. The second was a forced kind of moment denoted merely in the subtle exhales of breath that could create words. A silence beckoning to be broken.

As for the third silence, it was a silence not created but borne from the destruction of all the possible sounds that had come before. A hallow quality to the air as if something had been taken, words stolen.

And when the silence had been banished, it was like a storm bearing down. Strong winds with heavy rains.

A natural kind of chaos. 

Damien Carmen wouldn’t see a day in prison. 

Morgan had raged, Prentiss had bargained. 

And the rest were somewhere in between. A tangle of emotions for everyone but one. A weary warrior who had seen the demons of the world and still believed in love.

In a decisive tone, Hotch called to the chaos. Demanded that the silence bend to his will.

“Enough.” And just as Hotch had bended the silence into nothingness he allowed it to return.

It was a call not to the noise that did not exist, but to the wars ranging inside each of them that had allowed the silence to linger for so long.

“The bastard deserves more than he’s getting.” It was unsettling, to hear the calloused words escape Garcia. Her eyes dry, and her posture ridged.

“And yet.” The statement had been left open. A challenge for explanation. And Reid did not disappoint.

In a gesture of dismissal, Reid turned to leave the area. Stopped only by the clipped words of Hotch.

“You knew. Is that why?” It had been barely a whisper, ghosted words that ached. And the aftermath left the team confused and curious.

But no one else in the room seemed to matter. Reid let his eyes linger on Hotch before he let his voice carry the room into further silence.

“Yes.” Then seconds later, “No.”

And in that very moment, everyone understood something that they had subconsciously already known.

Damien was sick. That had been the cause for him to take drastic action to get Reid’s attention. He needed a successor; and Reid had been his first and only choice.

And in his brazen and confident manner he had made himself believe that he would be enough for Spencer Reid of the BAU. That he could offer what they couldn’t.

And while Reid had chosen the BAU, he had allowed the hand of justice to swing just a little bit softer. 

Damien would never see the inside of a prison cell. He would be held on house arrest until his near and untimely death.

Cause of death would read, ‘Cancer’.

And the timing became clear. From the moment Reid had seen the body to the moment they found themselves in now; everything had been carefully calculated.

Everyone knew that when Reid had first started this journey with Damien, years before they had met him and with Scythe Company, he had the knowledge and ability to burn the man to the ground.

And yet, it hadn’t been until now that Reid had strategically chosen to turn on Damien. To make a final decision that would separate him from the past he had hid for so long.

Reid had made his decision; the damages had been carefully calculated; because somewhere in that big brain he had chosen mercy.

Mercy that lets people know there is hope in dreaming.

Mercy that keeps a family together.

Mercy that allows a man to live his dying days in peace.

Mercy borne from a past that molds us, that creates us.

And a future that allows this to be who we become.

**Author's Note:**

> Positive comments are greatly appreciated and welcomed! Inspiration to write is hard to come by these days ;)


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